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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826312">The Woes of the Witch Formerly Known as Agatha Harkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle_Schuyler/pseuds/Belle_Schuyler'>Belle_Schuyler</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>WandaVision (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Witchcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:33:39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826312</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belle_Schuyler/pseuds/Belle_Schuyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Origin story for Agnes/Agatha Harkness.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Agatha Harkness/Dottie Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Pilot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On a foggy Hallow’s Eve night in 1667, a baby was born.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The infant girl, her sex already a disappointment to her parents, struck a paralyzing fear in their hearts when they noticed a strange birthmark on her lower back. Deciding that this mark must surely denote the child as a witch, the new parents snuck deep into the woods and left her under the shadows of an ancient elm tree. They then fled to the farthest possible town; telling their new neighbors that they were overcome with grief when their newborn son died moments after birth, and were looking for a fresh start.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Back in the old woods, the baby was found by a powerful being named Endora, head of the Harkness Coven of Witches. Recognizing the child as one of her kind, Endora decided to raise her as her own, and named her Agatha.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agatha grew up an incredibly curious child, eager to learn and witness any scraps of magic her mother would offer her. When she was about six years old, Endora walked in on her casting a strange purple fog over her dinner plate, which resulted in all of the girl’s steamed vegetables reappearing in the cat’s food bowl.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As she grew older, it was harder to keep the young witch out of trouble. Endora often said that Agatha was too ambitious for her own good, as there were many nights where she had to carry her daughter to bed after she passed out from overexerting herself practicing spells and incantations.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My impatient girl.” Endora said one such night, gently stroking Agatha’s dark hair off of her forehead as she dozed on her lap. “Our kind can live for thousands of years, there is no need to learn everything at once.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“But there </span> <em> <span class="s2">is</span> </em> <span class="s1"> a need, Mother. I want to be the best. And you don’t become the best by practicing silly domestic magic.”</span></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your time will come soon enough, but that attitude of yours is dangerous.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Our magic is sacred, Agatha. There is a delicate process to learning it. If you try to take it on all at once...not only would it be horribly disrespectful to our ancestors, you could be killed by that much power.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I understand.” Agatha said, getting off her mother’s lap and curling up under her blankets. She looked up at Endora with sparkling eyes. “Could you tell me the story about how I was born again?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Endora smiled, repositioning herself at the foot of the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was a cold Hallow’s Eve night. The fog was so thick I could barely see a foot in front of me. But I marched right into the old woods with a purpose.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because Hallow’s Eve is a special night for witches.” Agatha interjected knowingly.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Endora nodded. “It’s when our magic is at it’s most potent. And I had yearned for a child for so long, and I knew that night I could finally make it happen. I found the tallest, most ancient elm in that wood and plucked three vines from it. I braided them together with a strand of my own hair, said my incantation...and there you were! A healthy baby girl, sleeping right there in my arms. And what a pretty little thing you were, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agatha smiled as she pulled her blankets up to her chin.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I’d do it a thousand times more if it meant I could have you as a daughter.” Endora said, kissing her forehead before waving her hand, causing the candle on the bedside table to be extinguished. “Have a good night, dear.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Quest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Agatha, dear?” Endora called from the bottom of the cottage stairs. She was fixated on taking a pair of pliers to the dark blue pendant in her palm.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, Mother?” Agatha responded, hovering down the stairs with a trail of purple fog streaming from her fingertips. Though nearly fifteen years have passed since we last saw Agatha, she still looked to be about eighteen. She landed on the wooden floor with a thud, causing Endora to gasp and nearly drop the pendant on the floor.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do be careful!” Endora scolded, repositioning the pendant securely back in her hand. “Remember what I said about frivolous magic.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, I know, someone might see. But Mother, we’re at home. None of the other witches are even around.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We can’t be too careful nowadays.” Endora said sadly, her eyes flickering to the newspaper on the kitchen table describing the upcoming trial for a local woman accused of witchcraft. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are you working on?” Agatha asked, curiously tilting her head to look at the pendant.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s a...talisman of sorts.” Endora responded, holding it up to the light, causing the three marble figures in the center to glisten. “It provides protection, strengthens the wearer’s powers, and makes them more sensitive to other sources of magic.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How pretty.” Agatha murmured, enchanted by the pendant and its potential. “You’ve never told me about a talisman like this before.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, this is one of very few, darling. It was passed down to me by previous leaders of the coven. I only brought it out recently out of an abundance of caution.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Might I have one, too?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Endora barked, her eyes turning a dangerous ice blue. Her expression softened when she noticed the hurt spread across Agatha’s face. She took a deep sigh before continuing. “This pendant will provide more than enough protection for the both of us, my dear. I promise that when I die, I’ll pass it along to you.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>
    <span class="s2">Which won’t be for thousands of years. </span>
  </em>
  <span class="s1">Agatha grumbled internally. She eyed her mother cautiously, trying to see if she was reading her thoughts. If she was, she didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you need me for something?” Agatha asked, looking to change the subject.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, yes! I wanted you to go to town and grab a few things for me.” Endora went to a collection of jars on the kitchen counter and pulled a handful of iridescent beetle wings out of the one in the center. She shook them in her palm, whispered a few words under her breath, and tossed them up in the air. When they landed, they had become a shiny pile of gold coins. “There you are. And pick yourself out something, too.” She placed the coins in a pouch and handed them to her daughter with a wink.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here’s the list, and go find Sister Moira to chaperon you.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s2">
    <em>Not grumpy old Moira. </em>
  </span>
  <span class="s1">Agatha thought. If her mother had her way, Sister Moira would drag Agatha around the apothecary for hours looking at ingredients for her ridiculous potions. If Agatha so much as blinked the wrong way, Moira would have something to say about it. It was then that she noticed her mother’s planner open on top of a nearby bookshelf.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Sister Moira won’t be able to go with me, Mother.” She said, hiding her hands behind her back and focusing her attention on the planner, praying her mother wouldn’t notice the thin purple smog filling the room. “She’s on watch duty today, remember? For the witch hunters?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Endora said in disbelief, patting the top shelf in search of her planner. That’s impossible, I thought for sure...” She finally pulled it down and looked at the date. “No, I guess you’re right, dear. Very well, you can go by yourself. But hurryback! If you’re not home before sun down I’ll go right to town and drag you back myself.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be good, I promise.” Agatha said, grabbing a wicker basket and slipping in the coins and the shopping list.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And if anyone asks why you’re alone, say you’re waiting to meet up with your husband.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agatha laughed at the thought. “And what is the name of my mystery husband?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I don’t know...Ralph! There must be some single man named Ralph that lives in town, right?” Endora replied, waving her hand dismissively as she turned back to working on her pendant. Agatha shook her head with a chuckle before leaving the cottage.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Meet Cute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agatha left the house with a sigh of relief. Going to town by herself was a rare treat, especially now that her mother was so anxious about the witch hunters. She took her sweet time searching the shops, getting everything on Endora’s list and even settling on a dozen azalea clippings for herself. Given how long the clippings would take to sprout, Agatha believed she’d have enough time to learn how to transfigure them into the coveted Wundergore Everbloom. The Everbloom petals were said to provide visions of the future if laid upon the tongue, and a single leaf contained enough poison to take down an impressively sized army.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just as she was daydreaming about all she could do with her new purchase, she noticed gold sparks out of the corner of her eye. She turned around in the direction of the sparks and met the gaze of a wide-eyed blonde girl, who looked to be about her age, working in a fenced-in garden next to her house. The girl’s palms and the roses in front of her were connected by a shimmery golden haze. She held Agatha’s gaze for a moment, her cheeks flushing red and her voice releasing an involuntary squeak.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agatha looked at her, confused. “A-are you a witch?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“O-of course not! What would give you such a silly idea?” The girl said, defensively crossing her arms over her chest and taking a few steps back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your roses, they’re...literally glowing.” Agatha noted, inspecting the ones closest to the fence by sticking her pinky against the tip of the stems. “They’re beautiful.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You really think so?” The other girl asked, meeting her eyes again shyly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do. And you don’t have to worry about doing magic around me either, because I’m a witch too. Look!” Agatha pinched one of the rosebuds between her fingers and rolled it gently. To her surprise, it burst into flames, causing her to drop the bud and spread the flame onto the rest of the bushes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, that’s not what I meant to do...” She mused, analyzing the flames carefully.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Put it out! Quick!” The blonde pleaded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, right! Um...” Agatha flicked her wrist, and the bushes went back to normal. The other girl set off to the side, holding her hand to her heart while she tried to steady her breathing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry about that.” She said, sheepishly running her still-smoking hand through her hair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was incredible.” The other girl said, staring at her in awe. “I’ve never seen anyone use magic like that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, not even the other witches in your coven?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Coven? I...no. It’s just me. Plus my father, but, he’s hardly home anyway. And he doesn’t know about all of - this.” She gestured to the twinkling bushes surrounding them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m Dorothy, by the way.” She stepped closer and extended her hand to Agatha, who accepted it. “Dorothy Jones. But everyone calls me Dottie.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m Agatha Harkness.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Agatha, huh? Why haven’t I seen you around? This town is so small, I thought I knew everyone within a fifty mile radius.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I live near the edge of the old woods with my mother, and the rest of her coven. We don’t exactly get out much.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Must be nice, surrounded by our kind all the time.” Dottie said, placing her hands on the fence and closing her distance between Agatha. Her cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink when she looked down and realized their hands were touching, but neither her nor Agatha pulled away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s nothing special, especially now with all the witch hunts going on. Mother barely even lets me practice magic, she thinks someone will be able to detect it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, no one’s noticed my garden yet. Though that could have something to do with my reputation as a bit of an odd duck around here. They don’t pay me much mind.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t put a protective hex or anything around it, so people wouldn’t be able to see it?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, no. I don’t know how. My magical knowledge is strictly botanical.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can teach you.” Agatha said, her eyes lighting up with an idea.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really? Y-you won’t get in trouble with your mother or anything?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.” She shrugged, leaning in further to whisper in Dottie’s ear. “Meet me at the edge of the old woods around dusk?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dottie leaned back, her eyes flickering under Agatha’s gaze. “O-okay!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Agatha walked away with a wink, and Dottie watched her go with a longing smile.</span>
</p>
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